


Hope

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [98]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:10:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: Imagine Jamie's POV as he followed Claire and found her crying over Adso in Echo in the Bone.





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/179590626043/hello-lovely-and-brilliant-ladies-lets-imagine) on tumblr

_“I‘m sorry,” he said, very softly._

_“It‘s not—don‘t worry, I‘m … He‘s only a cat,” I said, and a small fresh grief tightened like a band round my chest._

_“Aye, I know.” He moved beside me and put an arm round my shoulders, pulling my head to his chest, while he gently wiped my face. “But ye couldna weep for the bairns. Or the house. Or your wee garden. Or the poor dead lass and her bairn. But if ye weep for your cheetie, ye know ye can stop.”_

_– An Echo In The Bone_ _  
_

—–

He held her as she cried. Drawing her closer as bone-deep sobs wracked her body – so thin after such a long and uncomfortable winter, moving from house to cabin and hard floor to lumpy pallet.

Yet again he had failed to provide for her. Yet again they had to start over – with scarcely the clothes on their backs, a few precious possessions that had survived the fire (silently Jamie thanked his nephew for the thousandth time for rescuing the few books and mementos – including Sawny – that would allow them to start over again somehow, someday).

It scared him to see Claire so upset. Yes, there was plenty to cry about. Would always be plenty to cry about – and not just because they were leaving the only home that had truly been their own. Tears were the only logical response to so much debilitating loss in such a short period.

Claire shifted within the circle of his arms, digging her cold hands into the warmth of his coat pockets.

How many times had she held Brianna like this, when she was a bairn?

_Lord, that they may be safe_. The familiar words, long unspoken, returned yet again to his lips. _She and my grandchildren_.

“You know, Adso was the first cat I ever had?”

He pulled back a bit. Gently brushed damp curls away from her beautiful, beautiful face. “I didna ken that.”

“Frank was allergic. We had dogs, of course – mostly so that Brianna had a playmate in the house. But cats…”

“Aye. They’re wily ones. This one especially.”

She rubbed her streaming nose on her sleeve. “I’m not worried about him – he was equal parts indoor cat and outdoor cat. He’ll be able to survive in these woods – and he’s too smart to get eaten by a painter.”

His sad smile echoed hers. “So perhaps if ye can stop weeping for him, _a nighean_ – because ye have hope for him – does that mean ye can perhaps find a wee bit of hope for the other things, as well?”

“Not on my own. But with you, I can.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. Cherishing her, there in the quiet clearing.


End file.
